Fallen
by Lady Luce
Summary: DRABBLE: Elladan and Elrohir's rage towards the orcs reaches drastic levels.


**-Fallen-**

-ElvenHope-

_A/N: This was original a drabble, but it just kept on going so now um it's exactly seven hundred words counting the 'Fin' at the end. I wanted to only write one hundred words but my mind got the better of me and I wasn't honestly sure which would give the most impact, seven hundred words or one hundred. So I'll probably write another drabble excuse my excessive love of the twins _)

-o-

Silver eyes locked on mirrored silver, this had gone too far some time ago and yet neither could stop now. Not after what had been done, not after everything.

It was no longer just about hunting, it wasn't about protecting people, about keeping others safe. They really had gone too far, they both knew but they couldn't stop.

At first it had been there a tiny splinter at the backs of their minds, they hadn't had the time for it when the full force of what had happened first hit them. Back then it had been about saving her, about making everything alright again. Only everything hadn't been alright again.

They had watched their mother dying watched their father practically killing himself to save her and that was when they had snapped, that was when everything had gotten out of control. They had never felt anything like it before, never dreamed that anyone could ever feel _anything_ like it. It was like falling, falling so hard and fast that everything was a blur and the air was gone and their hearts were suddenly dead, drowned in wild hate and rage, the pain of those terrible emotions blinding them to everything else. Everything had shut down save for one instinct - the instinct to kill masked by revenge masquerading as something good when all it actually was, was a bloody cold hearted massacre.

It had been slow at first they hadn't noticed it, their father had been too wrapped up in grief to notice it and so they had gone unchecked. Like a drug it numbed the pain, because killing felt good, destroying felt good and there was no one left to question what morals they actually had only they knew and they refused to believe the truth because that was far too horrible. They didn't want to know what was really going on inside their own minds anymore. They didn't want to feel they just wanted to destroy because destroying felt good, it felt right, satisfying…

There was something terribly wrong with that, they both knew it, but the void had swallowed them whole, sucked them in before they could stop it; now they were powerless to resist. It consumed them from within until they themselves were no better than the creatures that they hunted.

They couldn't fight it, neither of them knew how and inside neither of them really wanted to even though they knew with every foul creature they annihilated with every orc home they decimated they were simply falling further. They were killing every inch of themselves with every orc they brought down and that truth was too horrid for either to face so they simply chose not to.

They looked strong, felt strong, but really deep inside they knew they were weak because they couldn't fight the darkness inside them, the only thing that seemed to be able to destroy them.

A silver blade sang in its owner's hand its mirror image doing the same thing held in the snow white palm of another, identical, deadly. The mind only telling both one thing it's clamour silencing the heart with an on going mantra. Kill.

They did just that, the moonlight played on ebony hair and flashed on silver blades. Within seconds the plain of snow was silent again, the sibilant hiss of steel on steel already fading away into the night.

One figure rose from a slight crouch cleaning his sword off dispassionately not caring about his own wounds. They were not bad, then never were he let his mind concentrate on the pain, not giving his heart the satisfaction of reminding him why he was here.

The second figure sheathed his own sword his hands moving unconsciously together trying to wipe away the blood that wasn't actually there, a memory which came back all too clearly and he couldn't erase the feeling of the viscid liquid.

Both looked to the sky and saw no stars, there never were any, black blood covered the snow about them marring its beauty.

When had hatred turned to madness? When had pain turned into pleasure? When had killing become so satisfying, and how had they fallen so far?

_-Fin-_

-o-

_Reviews are welcome and held close to the heart._

_-ElvenHope_


End file.
